Could Be Worse
by lethalogica
Summary: alternate title: Why Harry Shut Off the Floo Access in His Bedroom Fireplace. A discussion of love consisting mostly of dialogue between James Sirius Potter and Scorpius Malfoy. Warning: Not as serious as it sounds. At all.


Disclaimer: Neither the rights of the Nintendo DSi nor Harry Potter as a series belong to me, but to their respective owners and corporations.

James plops down on the bed and glares at Scorpius. "Yeah, thanks a lot, _mate_. Thanks for the, 'Oh, Jamie, are you alright? Why is your arm in a cast? Do you need any help?' Well, of course not, not even when _I'm_ the one who carried home all your girly little lotions and creams- I don't even want to know the difference between the two- from your apothecary 'friend'- I saw the way he smiles when he says your name, so don't try telling me he's _just_ a _friend_, friends with benefits, maybe- and you didn't bother to tell me they weigh more than Hagrid himself either, so, yes, my day was bloody fine if you were wondering! Not that you did, and if you also wanted to know, my arm's in cast because this gigantic man- woman- person- _thing_ somehow snuck a clam into the ministry, and one of the visiting merfolk representatives- I don't know how they could get there, either- anyways, it-"

The blonde peeks up from behind the DSi he's playing on- _Wouldn't have introduced the prat to Muggle toys if I knew he was going to become some sort of still-gorgeous-but-frustratingly-useless vegetable because of them..._- and says a single sentence that stops the brunette dead in the middle of his tantrum.

"Our fathers have initiated a romantic relationship."

James stares at him, eyes wide and mouth agape, disbelief passing and slight panic settling in. His breaths come out shallow and hitched and he rambles, "Oh, Merlin. You're using fancy terms. You're not kidding. I knew it, me and dad _are_ Malfoy-sexual. But time to get out that portable shrine to the underworld Uncle George got me for Halloween, now. We have to pray for the sake of both the wizarding and Muggle worlds, Circe help us all. Oh, _no_, are they- okay, calm down, James, _calm down_- no help from your boyfriend. Just... Okay. And how are _you_ taking this?"

Scorpius opens his mouth, then pauses. "Are you saying you think my dad is attractive? With that 'Malfoy-sexual' bit?"

The brunette's lips tighten into a firm line and he asks, "Is that seriously all you got from this?"

"Yes."

"You're lucky I love you."

"You're lucky I love you back."

"Prat."

"Git."

"No."

"But I look almost just like him. Does that mean you're not really attracted to me?"

The taller of the two adopts a deadpan expression on his face. "Would we be shagging almost every night if I didn't?"

"Then why don't you find my father attractive?" the blonde pushes, silently challenging him, prodding his own light pink lips with the silver stylus, the way he knew he would always get his boyfriend to melt and do whatever he wanted him to do.

James stays mute, thinking of how he could ever answer properly while simultaneously ignoring his growing arousal (an impressive feat for him), before finally concluding, "There's no proper way to answer that."

"Git."

"Prat."

"You're lucky I love to shag you."

"And you're lucky when I _let_ you."

"You know you love being a bottom."

"Not as much as you do."

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

"They'll probably be okay if they're anything like us, huh."

"Seeing that you ended your statement as a statement, I'll agree. Yes. They'll probably be as well functioning as us, relationship-wise."

"I love it when you start talking all clever," Scorpius gushes.

"Nice try, but I always do talk clever- cleverly- whatever, sod off. Anyways, they'll have their fights, of course, all couples do- the only ones that don't are either dead or Canadian, am I right? No? Okay. I see someone hasn't been doing his Muggle internet culture homework. But, just like us, they'll make up for those with hot, steamy, passionate fu-"

"No! No want! Reject! I do not want _that_ image of them floating around my head right now! Get me some brain bleach, quick, or _Obliviate_ that from my memories! Anything for the sake of my sanity!" the blonde yelps and cringes.

Holding his arm steady and straight, James begins, "Alright. _Obliv_-"

The blonde slaps his lover's hand away. "_What_ in the fuck are you doing!"

"I was going to _Obliviate_ you."

"Yes, I know that, but _why_!"

"Because you told me to."

"I was just being dramatic!"

"Revenge! Serves you right for being demanding and whiny all the time now, huh?"

"Fuck you."

"I'd rather fuck you."

"My body is ready."

"Should've _never_ introduced you to the internet."

"Then I wouldn't have found out about this curious thing called 'sixty-nining'. Shame, I would've liked to have tried that."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"I love you."

"Now fuck me."

"Gladly."

And the heat went almost painfully constricting before they finally realized that there is a rather limited amount of comfortable sexual positions between two partners when one of the participants' dominant arm is confined to a cast.

Thank Merlin for Healer Draco Malfoy.

Curse Merlin for unrestricted Floo access leading directly to the new couple's bedroom.

"Could be worse."

"No, not really."

"Yeah, you're right."

"I'm always right."

"Prat."

"Git."

The end.


End file.
